Chapter 136 136
The sound tore through him.
The sharp crack of the whip.
Then her scream.
A numbness spread through his entire body, cold and paralyzing right before rage exploded in its place. Every muscle locked tight as he shot upward, gripping the railing. In one swift movement, he vaulted over it and lunged blindly into the room.
He hit the floor in a heavy thud, boots striking hard.
The scent of blood was suffocating in here.
His gaze snapped to its source
And something feral inside him snapped.
Jacqueline was crouched on the floor, her back facing him. This wasn’t the girl who had looked breathtaking in that black dress earlier tonight. This was someone else. Someone shattered. The fabric at her back was torn in several places, and beneath it he could see raised welts, split open, blood slowly seeping down her skin.
“What the fuck?” Julien barked, stunned, stepping backward.
Damien turned toward him, and all he saw was red.
The bastard was holding a belt.
A low, vicious growl ripped from Damien’s chest before he even realized he’d moved. He charged.
Jacqueline was shaking where she knelt, bracing herself for the next strike. She shouldn’t have gone to the club. She should have known he would be watching her. Keeping tabs.
She tensed, waiting for the lash.
But it never came.
Instead, there was a heavy crash.
She didn’t turn. She didn’t dare. If she moved, if she angered him further, tonight would be worse.
Julien’s voice rose in fury.
Then a thunderous growl shook the room.
She flinched, expecting pain.
But what followed was Julien’s cry.
Her head snapped up despite herself.
And she froze.
A massive figure had Julien by the collar, lifting him like he weighed nothing, fist slamming repeatedly into his face. Blow after blow. Brutal. Relentless.
It took her a moment to understand what she was seeing.
Damien.
Damien was beating him.
She didn’t even have the strength to fully turn her body.
“You bastard! I’ll kill you!” Damien roared.
One punch landed with such force she heard the sickening crack of bone.
Still, he didn’t stop.
He looked unhinged.
As much as she had fantasized about Julien hurting for once, she couldn’t let Damien kill him. Her thoughts were tangled, chaotic. His sudden presence had thrown everything into disarray.
Forcing herself upright on trembling legs, she stumbled forward and grabbed the back of Damien’s shirt, clutching tightly and tugging.
His fist halted midair.
Julien’s body sagged, barely conscious, his face already swollen and bloodied beyond recognition.
Damien released him.
Julien dropped to the floor with a lifeless thud, blood spilling from his nose and mouth. Unconscious.
Slowly, Damien turned.
The sight of her hit him like a blade to the chest.
What had that monster done to her?
“Jacq…” His voice softened instantly. He stepped closer, hand rising on instinct to cradle her cheek.
Her face was swollen. Finger-shaped bruises marked her skin. Her lower lip was split at the corner.
She flinched away from his touch.
Her eyes dropped to Julien’s unmoving body.
“W-what h-have you d-done?” she whispered, horror shaking her voice.
As badly as he wanted to end Julien permanently, that wasn’t what mattered right now.
Getting her out did.
He grabbed her wrist and started toward the door.
The overwhelming scent of her all over Julien only fueled the fire in his veins.
“I c-can’t l-leave…” she stammered, wrenching free.
“M-Mathieu…”
She turned and hurried down the stairs, Damien close behind. She stopped outside a room, not stepping inside.
“Jacqueline,” he called, low and tense.
“No… W-why did you c-come?” she cried softly. “You s-shouldn’t have h-hit him. N-now he’ll h-hurt me more… You’ve put M-Mathieu’s life at risk…”
Her fear wasn’t for herself.
It was for someone else.
Damien looked past her and saw a small boy sleeping peacefully on the bed.
The pieces shifted.
He stepped inside without another word and carefully lifted the child into his arms. Jacqueline stared at him, stunned.
“We’re leaving,” he ground out.
She followed without argument.
“Here,” she murmured, rushing ahead to the kitchen. She opened the back door for him.
As they stepped outside, Damien’s eyes kept drifting to her back the torn dress, the angry welts.
It had to hurt like hell.
How was she even standing?
He took the lead once they reached the car. Jacqueline opened the door while he gently laid the boy in the back seat.
She slid in beside him, placing Mathieu’s head carefully on her lap.
He didn’t need to ask who the child was.
Her brother.
The one she’d talked about in the elevator.
Damien pressed the gas, the engine roaring as he pulled onto the road.
The boy slept on, oblivious. Damien was grateful for that much.
His mind raced violently, thoughts colliding over and over. But every time he glanced at Jacqueline in the rearview mirror, regret gnawed deeper into him.
The urge to protect her burned hotter than anything he’d ever felt.
He barely knew her.
And yet he had just beaten her stepfather unconscious without hesitation.
Julien’s earlier words echoed in his head.
He didn’t want to think down that path but everything pointed there.
Julien had been forcing her.
But why would she endure it?
From everything he’d seen, her only weakness was that boy.
Mathieu.
Julien’s son.
Would he really hurt his own child?
Or had he been using the boy as leverage?
Blackmailing her.
Threatening her.
“Fuck…” Damien breathed.
The idea made his stomach churn.
How could anyone be that vile?
He inhaled sharply when he realized how tightly he was gripping the steering wheel his knuckles bone-white from the force.
And then it hit him.
Hard.
Every accusation he had thrown at her.
Every cruel assumption.
Every word.